Hidden
by SoraGirl
Summary: Back at Hogwarts for a 7th year, Ron claims Hermione as his cousin in order to keep her safe from new ministry policy. Now the two must struggle to keep their growing feelings for each other a secret or risk putting everyone they love in danger. R
1. The Decision

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter :(

Author's Notes : Based on the idea of what would have happened if Ron and Hermione had had to go back to Hogwarts for their 7th year without Harry. There will be three parts. Please read and review:)

REVISED AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to a reviewer who pointed out I didn't clarify why the two would need to be cousins. To clarify: In the 7th book, we're told that the Ministry begins rounding up "muggle-born" under the claim they have stolen magic. Being put into the Weasley family tree, Hermione would be able to prove she hadn't "stolen" her magic, but gotten it from her family. This is actually suggested in HP7 by Ron, but because the trio is on the run anyway, they don't have to resort to it.

_Hidden_

Part I: The Decision

He hadn't considered it a sacrifice when he had said it. In fact, he hadn't considered it at all. It had just slipped out of his mouth. No, not slipped…that made it seem like an accident, and it was no accident. He had said it without thinking, not because he wouldn't have said it if he had thought it through, but because it was so instinctive. It was an automatic response, like the quick, defensive movement of a mother's arm over her child when the car stops short. It was easy to do things without thinking when you were trying to protect someone you loved.

So he had told them Hermione was his cousin. She had thanked him and refused the offer, incapable of imagining the guilt of something happening to the Weasley's because they had tried to help her. They all tried to think of a better plan, but as often happens, gut proved wiser than brain and a few hours later, Mr. Weasley had manufactured a place for her on the family tree.

"Please," Hermione said as she watched her name being stitched by a floating needle onto the enormous old quilt that held record of the Weasley family tree. A mix of guilt, love, and fear mixed inside her stomach and felt prodded with every poke of the needle into the fabric. "I can't let you do this."

Mrs. Weasley rested a comforting arm on Hermione's tense shoulder. "You've always been a part of our family, dear. This just makes it official."

The overwhelming emotions that had been swirling in Hermione's stomach begin to make their way up to her face, burning and drying her throat so much that her voice was barely audible. "If the ministry finds out…"

Mrs.Weasley opened her mouth to speak, but Ginny beat her to the truth. "Families fight for each other, no matter what."

At last, Hermione allowed herself to break into tears, and she threw her arms around Ginny, burying her sobbing face into her bright red hair.

Though the entire thing had started as Ron's idea, he had become strangely silent as everything began. He felt a pull on his own stomach as he watched his sister and his best friend embrace. He had always somehow expected Hermione to be part of his family…but this had never been part of the plan. He felt weak somehow now, helpless even, as he watched Mrs.Weasley join the crying embrace.

When the three woman finally let go and Hermione's face was visible again, her eyes darted from Weasley to Weasley, Ron's heart sopping and speeding up when her gaze fell on him. "Thank you," she whispered.

As usual his response was an awkward one, full of attempted (and failed) nonchalance. He became noticeably red as she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight enough to say thank you more than she ever could with words. He hugged back, overwhelmingly relieved that he was able to make her maybe just a little bit safer.

The hug lingered a second too long, and Fred was the first to try and break the seriousness of the situation. "Hey you two, let's not get _too_ affectionate," he grinned, pulling them apart. "Remember you're cousins, after all."

Hermione blushed a little with a giggle that seemed to force out more tears. She laughed harder and wiped them away. Fred's joke echoed a little too seriously on Ron, though. That queasy feeling he was so used to feeling around Hermione was amplified ten fold. They were cousins now, after all...

* * *

It was a fact he had to remind himself of over and over again in the coming school year, a fact that he was reminding himself of at that very moment, as his eyes slipped up Hermione's legs to the knee length skirt she was wearing. He silently scolded himself and immediately turned (or at least tried to turn) his attention back to the Charms lesson.

The year wasn't even half way through, and it had already been record breakingly horrible. Harry had stayed true to his decision to quit school but had refused to let Ron and Hermione join him on his quest until the very last moment. When he was ready (but who knew when that would be) he would send for them, and they would leave school to join him. Ginny was always in a mood because Harry was gone. Hermione was always ignoring everyone, trying to read her way to defeating the Dark Lord, and Ron was in a mood because he couldn't seem to ignore Hermione (or more specifically, his feelings for her) any longer, and she was very suddenly his cousin.

Ron had hated himself more than once for letting himself feel so awful about the situation. There were a million things he should be worried about, an impending war which could lead to death, destruction, and chaos. Yet for some reason he could not get his mind off of how hard it was to keep his mind off of his surrogate cousin, Hermione Granger.

Sometimes he wondered if she found the same problem with him, but as much as he wanted to, could never convince himself of it. He was sure that she was just as busy with the more important things as she looked. That of course, just made him feel a million times more miserable and inadequate. It was just like Hermione to be making the right choices even when he was making the wrong ones.

And so the days went on like that for a long time, and Ron did what he could to avoid Hermione all together. When they were together, he tried to make himself feel somewhere else and would leave his mind entirely, which often ended up leaving others irate that they were being ignored. He tried as hard as he could to forget it all, or to at least pretend like nothing was bothering him, but he had never been a very good actor.

Most of all, he tried to distract himself, to throw himself into work just as Hermione had. It was one such day that he was sitting at the library, writing a Transfiguration essay that wasn't due for another three weeks. Though he didn't want to, his eyes followed Hermione as she entered the library. He tried to force his eyes back to his paper and managed to, until he heard the noise of a nearby chair. Hermione had sat down with a book, not next to him as had been custom for so many years before, but leaving an empty chair between them.

There was silence for a few moments as Hermione pretended to flip through some pages. "I'll look over that essay for you now," she said, eyes never leaving the pages. Her voice sounded commanding, yet she somehow hid a softness deep within it that only Ron could hear. Not fully understanding why she would use such a complicated tone for such a mediocre event as looking over an essay, he handed it over with no further question.

She never once brought her gaze up, and Ron followed suite, despite how tempting the sound of the scratching of her quill against his parchment made it to look up. However, when the noises stopped, he couldn't help but give into temptation. He looked up at Hermione, who had seemingly instantly gathered her things, stood, and handed him his paper.

"These pages in _Hogwarts: A History _should help," she said so matter-of-factly that Ron almost forgot that his essay was on Transfiguration. She was out the door before he even had a chance to nod.

Despite the automatic urge to run straight up to his room and retrieve the copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ Hermione had let (well, more forced than let, really) him borrow a few weeks ago, he resisted. If Hermione was going through all this trouble to stay secretive, he wasn't going to let his over-eager curiosity ruin it.

When he had stared at his paper for as long as he could bear, he packed up his things and headed to the boys' dormitory. He said a quick, "Oi'" to Dean and Seamus, who were so bored they were playing a less-than-spirited game of "count-the-planks-of-wood-on-the-ceiling," and then immediately retrieved his _Hogwarts: A History_.

Ron flipped quickly to each of the pages Hermione had written down for him. He was distressed (to say the least) when page after page seemed irrelevant to anything at all. He was sure that Hermione was trying to tell him something, but in all her planning, she must have overestimated his detective skills. After all, that had always been her and Harry's job. Ignoring his building frustration, he read on, not content to rest until he figured out something; _anything_.

He was so close to giving up hope entirely that he nearly missed the small quill mark on the third to last page on the list. Ron read over the sentence at a pace that, if he had kept it up, would have let him have the whole book finished in a matter of minutes.

_In response to the slain dragon's moaning, the recently mentally-unstable Harfie Hassalender responded, "Yeah, well, you aren't the only one." _

Under the words _you aren't the only one_ Hermione had made two thin quill marks. Ron's heart leapt. Though he was fairly sure that was the only message Hermione had wanted to get across, he checked the last two pages, just in case. That was it. All that just to ensure Ron that he wasn't the only one feeling this way.

Or at least…that's what he assumed it meant. He had realized a long time ago that his mind and Hermione's didn't exactly function on the same wave length. To him, those words could mean only one thing. He could only hope that's what _she _meant them to mean.

Please review! It will definitely encourage me to get up the next part as quickly as I can ;)


	2. The Opportunity

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter.

AN: Thanks for the reviews:) Hope you enjoy this chapter.

_**Hidden**_

_Part II: The Opportunity_

Hoping was most of what Ron did for the next few days as he struggled to create such a sneaky scheme as Hermione's for himself. Yet every plan seemed to fall short, and he worried he'd do more damage than good.

But fortunately for him, sometimes fate slips in the kind of chances in life that it's near impossible not to take advantage of. It was by fate only that that particular night, after a late dinner turned study session in the greenhouse, Neville had forgotten his Herbology book. An added miracle that he had insisted they go on without him.

It took till Neville had been out of sight for a few seconds for Ron to realize that he and Hermione were taking the rest of the long walk back to the Gryffindor tower alone. Once he did, his blood began rushing so hot inside his veins that he feared he might melt the snow they were trouncing threw.

Without any second thought, he understood that this might be his only chance, which in turn, lead him to take very drastic measures and immediately blurt out, "The book-what did you mean? I mean, I-"

"So much for being secretive," Hermione smiled, apparently now an expert on keeping her gaze on something else while speaking to Ron. Ron started to defend himself, but Hermione quickly interjected--"I meant that you aren't the only one having trouble with being related." As sneaky as she may have gotten, she still couldn't hid the blush rising to her cheeks.

"How did you even know though?" Ron asked. He thought he had been playing it cool.

"I could see it in how you looked at-….," she paused, feeling slightly embarrassed. "And well, how hard you tried _not_ to look. I could tell because it was familiar. It was what I was doing."

Ron couldn't understand why she was still being so indirect. "Hermione, you said it yourself: I have the emotional range of a teaspoon. I need you to spell it out for me…I need to be sure."

Every day since Ron's family had taken her in, Hermione had faced a constant worry that she would do something to get them caught. Perhaps she was being over cautious, but she'd much rather be safe than sorry. "Sometimes it's not safe to spell things out," Hermione said stoically, praying he would understand her meaning and drop the subject.

The redhead caught her meaning, but still was unsatisfied. He thought, as usual, she was worrying too much. He persisted. "But…you're saying that…" he wracked his brain for some kind of metaphor. "You wouldn't mind if I uh…tried that _spell _on you…the one that Harry tried on Cho that one time…near Christmas…remember?" Though it was supposedly just a spell Ron was talking about, he had for some reason turned pink.

Hermione couldn't decide whether to smile or roll her eyes. He was _so _bad at being sneaky. "No," she admitted. "I wouldn't mind."

Her answer sent such a wave of excitement and joy through him, he decided it had been worth the awkward metaphor. Yet fear gripped hold of him again. What if she didn't realize he was talking about kissing her? What if she thought he really was just talking about a spell?

"But do you mean that--" he started.

Hermione stopped him before he could try to come up with another example. "You smell like freshly mowed grass and new parchment, you know," she said gently, almost sadly. To a casual observer, it may have sounded like such a strange, offbeat thing to say it was reminiscent of Luna Lovegood, but Ron knew right away. When he had heard Hermione confess that was what she smelled in a love potion in 6th year, he had spent a good two weeks glowering at any boy who smelled the least bit like paper or greenery.

The understanding of what she just said, that not only was she feeling the same way, but that she had been feeling it at least since last year, caused Ron to become so moved to kiss her that he was becoming desperate. "Then can't we do something?" he asked. "I mean, we could…there's the room of requirement."

"_Ron,_" she said, not exactly sure what he was getting at, but slightly scandalized by the sound of it.

"I didn't mean," he stumbled, realizing what it may have sounded like he was suggesting. "I just meant…we could talk…I think we need to talk…not that I'm saying I wouldn't want to _try_…you know…that 'spell' or anything…"

"It's not safe." Her eyes were still pointed towards the ground, and she made sure that her pace never faltered. They were in sight of the castle now, sanctuary from Ron's forwardness and even more so from her own increasing eagerness to accept it. "It's not worth the risk. I couldn't put yo---our family into any more danger. Sometimes what we want isn't as important as the people we care about."

"But what if it's the people you care about that you want?" Ron said with such passion, it sent chills threw Hermione's layers of scarves and jackets. She was glad she had chosen to continue not looking at Ron, just feeling his eyes focused intensely on her threatened to break her resolve.

"It's not that simple." Her tone made it sound like some kind of plea. "Hasn't our time with Harry taught you that just because you don't see someone doesn't mean there not there? There's _nowhere _we can go that we're sure is safe."

They were almost at the castle now. Ron had never seen so physical a sign of the end of a conversation. He wasn't a hundred percent sure why but suddenly, he felt desperate. He grabbed Hermione's hand and did not allow himself to be dissuaded when she look back at him with something that surely resembled horror.

"_Ron_," she begged, moving as quickly as she could to the door. Ron, refusing to let go of her hand, was dragged along for the ride.

"Do you honestly think with all that's going on, with Harry off in hiding some place, that the Death Eaters really care about what's going on outside a school in the freezing cold middle of the night?"

Hermione wondered when he had learned to be so persuasive. She looked desperately towards the door, which she knew would bring Ron to his senses. It was so close now, only inches away, yet she was unsure if she could last that even that long.

As the door came into reach, Ron realized his time was running short. "Hermione, I want you, and you want me, what more is there?"

She tried to block him out, she kept walking, her sanctuary now an arm's length away. He let go of her hand and tried a different method.

" 'Mione! This could be it, this could be all we get. If you walk inside that door now, we might never get another chance."

Hermione hesitated, looking from the door, back to Ron, trying to decide. But as the large door creaked open, Ron took the decision into his own hands.

He roughly pulled Hermione out of the way of the opening door and using that same force, he pinned her aggressively against the wall and kissed her with so much passion and certainty it almost knocked her off her feet. She responded with an equal fervor, unable to kept herself from running her hands through his hair, trying to take as much in of him as she could while the moment lasted. Hermione could feel Ron's anger at the situation in the ferocity of his kiss and could feel his desperation in its tenderness. She became desperate too, trying to show him, give to him, every emotion she had in just one kiss. The door that they were wedged behind opened more and pressed them closer to each other. They were happy to give up comfort and the very air in their lungs to be as close as they could for that short moment.

When the door again, they were just wise enough to stop, but not wise enough to move. Ron stood pressed against her still on the wall. Hermione stared up at him awestruck, shocked by his behavior and her own.

"Standing a little close for cousins aren't we?" Draco's cold voice cut through the air like a sharp strand of smoke. He stood before them, smiling wickedly.

Ron moved away from Hermione immediately, flattening his hair where she had caused it to become disheveled. "You shouldn't jump to conclusions just because _your_ family interbreeds, Malfoy," Ron sneered. "Now why don't you run back inside? Wouldn't want anything to happen to Mommie's little boy, would we?" Ron's hand went to his wand suggestively.

"Don't you dare threaten me, filth," Draco snarled, his face bearing resemblance to an angry pittbull. He moved in close to Ron and stared him straight in the eye. "And don't think I believe your horse-shit story for a second." He turned his gaze to Hermione and then back to Ron. "All it will take is one mistake, one slip up, one piece of evidence….and I'll have you and you're whole 'family' carried off to Azkaban…or worse."

Draco moved back towards the door, stopping at Hermione on the way. He wrinkled his nose and gave her a look of complete disgust and disdain. "After all, you can dress a Mudblood up all you want, but you can never hide that smell."

Instinctively, Ron charged, wand raised, at Malfoy who had turned back to the door. Hermione had grabbed hold of his other arm. "No," she instructed and then looked down at where she was holding his hand, let go and shook her head.

"'Mione," Ron said, realizing the kind of danger he had just put them in. She shook her head again and hurried back up to the common room, leaving Ron in the cold, sorry and alone.

* * *

AN: One part left:) Please review:D

"Have you hugged an author today? Write a review and make one's day!"


	3. The Moment

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews:) Hope you enjoy the final installment!

_**Hidden**_

_Part III: The Moment_

The days were longer than they had ever been for the next few weeks. Ron survived his guilt only through the memory of that kiss and the understanding that as angry as Hermione was, you didn't just 'get over' a feeling that caused a kiss like that.

Hermione, of course, was more careful than ever and seldom allowed herself to be within 50 feet of him. Ron didn't try to change that. He had done all he could and been given all that could be given. Now he--_they_--would have to wait.

The wait wasn't as long as he had expected, Ron soon found out. No more than a month had gone by when Ron received an owl. It held a small scrap of paper on which only the words "family emergency" were scribbled in Harry's familiar handwriting.

It was a code, of sorts; a plan, really, that they'd made before they had been forced to part ways. If Harry decided he needed them and the Order approved, he would send an owl about a "family emergency." Hermione was to leave first, under the pretense that she was afraid once the mudbloods were are all collected, she'd be hunted for her supposed "half-blood" status. Ron would leave a week later to "save" his "cousin" from a group of headhunters who were said to have found her. He would have an argument in the Gryffindor common room with Ginny about their obligation to their family. Ginny would scream that Hermione was from the part of the family they rarely even talked to and that they had _just_ found out they were related, after all. Ron would remind her family was _family_ before trouncing off, family tree in hand, to prove Hermione's wizarding bloodline and thus, save her life.

It wasn't the best plan, but if the two just ran off at the same time with no explanation, everyone would realize they had joined up with Harry, which would inevitably mean big trouble for the Weasley's. It was also extremely important to drive home the point that Ron and Hermione really were family or the Weasley's were sure to be prosecuted severely even after they both had gone. Ron had fought for hours about having to wait a whole _week_ before he could join his friends, but Harry had snapped at him quite ferociously and absolutely insisted that even a week was probably too little time for people not to get suspicious.

Looking across the table as Hermione opened her own letter with what was sure to be the same message, Ron's mind flashed back to when they revealed to Ginny her part in the plan. She had been upset (mostly because she wasn't being asked to come along) and trying to argue her way out of it (well, more _in_ to it really). It had been Harry, in some strange (and unsuccessful) attempt to comfort her, that said in the somber, serious voice he had spoken in ever since Dumbledore died, "It's possible by the time a week has passed, we won't need a plan at all."

Harry hadn't been clear about what he meant, but Ron had understood clear enough. By the time Harry sent for them, things would be bad enough that he and Hermione, maybe the entire Order, might not last the week.

Harry's words echoed in Ron's head more than they ever had. _This could be it_, he realized with a finality and certainty that terrified him. Hermione would leave late tonight, no doubt, and this might be the last time he ever saw her alive. He became very close to vomiting all over the table in front of him.

For the first time in weeks, Hermione's eyes caught his, and he knew she was feeling the same sick drip of reality inside her. Without thinking it through for even a second, he stood up as casually as he could manage.

He opened his mouth and hoped only words would come out. "I need some air. Think I'll go out to the astronomy tower. Maybe take a broom ride," he announced, seemingly to no one in particular. The table stared at him at with slight confusion but went back to their business as soon as the redhead had left.

Hermione, of course, had known that message was for her, but thankfully, was a more convincing actor than Ron. She knew he would know to wait for her, so she finished up her meal, chatted idly with some classmates, and then stole away to the ladies room before she headed on her way.

Ron stood by the edge of the astronomy tower and watched as the sun began setting. He didn't know how long he had been waiting, and he was slightly anxious to begin with. But just as he was starting to wonder if Hermione had understood why he had announced his plans to the entire uninterested table, he felt a soft squeeze of pressure on his hand.

He looked around and saw nothing, but the pressure stayed, in fact, it seemed to slip more pressure in between his fingers now, as if someone was intertwining their fingers with his. Then a squeeze. His heart raced the second he realized it. He remembered Harry telling them that Dumbledore knew a way of making himself invisible without a cloak. Of course. Of course Hermione would be brilliant enough to figure it out after a while, too.

He tried to ignore the chilling rush of blood his hyperactive heart was sending cycling through his body. He walked as nonchalantly as he could up the stairs of the tower, broom in one hand, hand of an invisible girl in the other. When he reached the top, he opened the big, floor-to-ceiling window. He mounted the broom, and Hermione took the queue, mounting the broom behind him. Though he couldn't see her, Ron still loved the feeling of her arms gripping tightly around his waist.

He took to the air with immediate speed and felt Hermione's arms tighten as a result. He knew she hated flying, but he also knew she wasn't about to get them caught so close to the end. They went straight upward, higher than Ron had ever been, until Hermione's scared voice squeaked out, "That should be good."

Instantly, Ron turned back towards her, forgetting for a second they were hundreds of feet up in the air. Hermione squeaked again and her arms closed around him tighter.

"Mione, let go," he said gently. "Let go so I can turn around. I promise I'll keep the broom steady."

He quickly muttered a spell to keep the broom hovering without his guidance. Because Hermione kept her eyes tightly shut in fear, she didn't see what feat of agility Ron used in order to turn himself toward her on the broom. She did, however, feel him fumbling to put his hands on what he _hopefully _thought was her arms.

"Uh, Hermione? Could you maybe…can you turn that off? You know, make yourself visible again? It's not like I'm an expert at this to begin with…plus I want to--I need to look at you."

Hermione nodded, which of course, Ron could not see, but with a flick of the wand and an utterance of "Appapro!" she was visible again. In the same instance Ron grinned widely and immediately kissed her.

What began as a gentle, excited peck became desperate again as Hermione remembered the real reason why she had agreed to fly on this death stick. She hadn't meant to; she remembered him making fun of Cho for it, but she couldn't help herself…after everything, in the face of everything, she started crying.

As soon as Ron felt her tears, he pulled back from the kiss. He cupped her face in his hand and gently wiped a tear away with his thumb, like he seen those dashing blokes in romantic movies do. With his eyes locked on hers, Hermione could see his own tears threatening to pour. Though he knew exactly why she was crying, he attempted a smile and asked, "Oh Merlin, I'm not as bad as Harry, I am?"

Hermione laughed and kissed him quickly again. "I can't believe. I knew he would but--" she stopped suddenly, as though she had been hit in the back of the head by a Bludger. "I love you," she stated plainly. "I'm sorry. It's just important--"

"No," Ron said between quick, heated kisses, "No. I love you too." He leaned his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. "I can't let you go by yourself. At least let me go first--"

"No," Hermione said sternly. "We can't change the plan. Harry is counting on us to carry out everything exactly like we said we would."

"Hermione--" he started again more desperately.

"No, Ron, and you know nothing you can say about it will change my mind….so if you love me, don't argue, not now. Let's just make the best out of the time we have."

Renegade tears had been falling slowly from Hermione's eyes the whole time they spoke and now, Ron could no longer hold back his. Hermione could hear his deep, rasping breaths as he tried desperately to stop himself, to appear brave.

"I'm sorry 'Mione," he weeped. "If I hadn't been such an idiot--if I had understood sooner…there would have been more time."

She looked into his eyes and stroked his hair. "Don't say it like that. There _will _be more time." She sniffed out another laugh. "I've been told I'm actually fairly smart, you know. I daresay Harry and I might just be able to survive a week without you." Still crying she smiled at him.

He kissed her again while he laughed. He loved that as scared as she must be, she was still teasing him, trying to make him feel better. "I swear to God…I swear to God if we come out of this alive, I'm going to marry you."

There was a silence for a second, until the obvious question appeared. Not "What did you say?" or "You're kidding, right?" like it might have been in the past, but instead--

"And if we don't?"

The words were barely a whisper.

"Then we don't. But I still loved you---and I still _will _love you." He kissed her again because if this was it, if this was the end, then what else could he possibly say or do?

In a few hours, Hermione would leave to meet up with probably the most hunted boy in the world. Ron would join them in a week…_if_ all hell hadn't broken loose by then, _if_ they had survived the week, _if_ she had even managed to make it to Harry alive. Maybe all they had, all they had ever had, was this moment, high above the clouds. So he held her, and he kissed her, and he loved her...because if this was all they had, if this was it, they would at least make the best of it.

_Fin._

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AN: Well, that's it. Hope you liked it! Please review:)

"Have you hugged an author today? Write a review and make one's day!"


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